


Touches

by 2Lazy2Bother2Login



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, Natasha is a bro, Yes that is background stony, last segment of this short is aliens made them do it, so there's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:12:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Lazy2Bother2Login/pseuds/2Lazy2Bother2Login
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fic of 4 segments of instances they touched like "bros", and another that was actually what they wanted even if the reason was aliens. </p>
<p>1384 Words of my spiel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touches

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to wait for season 3. I really did. (Until I rewatched some episodes, whoops) 
> 
> I am, as I always am, without anyone to beta this. Please point out any errors or awkward sentences! Please and Thank You!

1.

Clint sighed and popped his knuckles. He could do this. With calculated precision and years of carefully honed skills, he maneuvered his way to victory. 

“How did you do that?!” Scott cried as Clint yet again took an impossible block out of the bottom of the Jenga tower they had constructed. Between the two, they had created an impossibly balanced tower, Clint’s skills being the reason for it still standing. Not wanting to be outdone, Scott carefully moved around the tower, careful to not get too close as he eased a Jenga block three times his size out of a stack in the middle. 

“Oh, come on Lang! Stop choosing the baby ones. “Clint smirked, propping his feet up onto the playing table. 

“Get your feet off the table! You’re going to make the tower shake.” Scott whined, growing to stack the block atop the tower. 

“Okay, mom” Clint retorted, thumping his feet onto the floor, noting the exasperated look on Scott’s face as the stack shook a bit. “What’s the big deal, it’s just Jenga.” 

“This is the farthest I’ve been into a Jenga game. Let me have my moment.” Scott watched as Clint yet again took out an impossible block. “How are even doing that!” He sighed slightly irritated at Clint’s quick ease removing the pieces. 

“Practice, my friend.” Clint pushed is shades up the bridge of his nose and sat the piece on to with a loud clack. “Lemme show you.” He said, moving behind Scott. “What block are you pulling next?” Scott pointed to a fairly easy loose brick near the top. He moved Scott’s hand to hover near the block. 

“Now just push it out.” Scott carefully started to ease the block out. “You have to be quicker than that.” Clint lifted his hand to guide Scott’s yet again, carefully fitting his hand over Scott’s to guide his fingers. “There. Out.” 

The brick dangled loosely out the other side. Scott smiled and placed the block.

“Still playing Jenga?” Scott and Clint turned to the sudden voice. Natasha sat, perched at the end of Clint’s sofa.  
“And I’m winning.” Clint added triumphantly. “Scott’s too slow.”  
“Hey! At least I don’t throw my feet onto the table.” The other counteracted, pouting a bit. The men locked eyes, silently challenging to other to argue on either point.  
“When you boys finish your little lovers’ spat, we have a mission.” Natasha said offhandedly, walking away.  
“Psht. Lovers’ spat.” Clint retorted. Scott nodded in agreement as they followed their teammate out of the room. 

 

 

2.

As they were being debriefed on their mission, Clint leaned onto Scott’s shoulder with his elbow. Both listened to the information, occasionally shuffling to meet the other’s movement. As Scott shifted his weigh to his right foot, Clint tacked his left foot behind his right to stay balanced. As Clint adjusted his footing, Scott leaned subconsciously support the additional weight.  
Everyone but them noticed. 

 

3.

As they returned from another mission, Clint flopped onto the couch. Scott trudged after, tossing Clint’s legs off the side of the couch to sit in their place. With a half-hearted glare, Clint plopped his feet into Scott’s lap, meeting little resistance to the intrusion from the red head. 

“Do you want to finish our game?’ Clint yawned, looking up at Scott. 

“Later.” Scott replied tiredly, his eyes shut and body slumped into the cushions. 

The two dozed for a moment, the only noise their even breathing. Slowly, Scott’s body tilted to the side until he was uncomfortable leaned over. Too exhausted to move, he fell asleep curled awkwardly to the side.

Noticing the odd position the other was in, Clint eased his legs off Scott and sat up. Gently moving the shorter to lay comfortably on the couch, Clint stood to find a blanket. Finding a thick throw over a chair, Clint draped it over Scott making sure not to wake him. 

Slipping out of the room, Clint ran right into Steve. Stumbling back, Clint let out a hushed apology and warned Steve no to wake Scott up. Steve simple nodded as Clint went up to his room. Steve wandered to the workshop where Tony was chugging coffee and checking damage reports from their last fight. Seeing the look on Steve’s face Tony rolled his eyes.  
“And Clint tells us we need to kiss.” Tony grumbled slightly irritated. Steve chucked and pressed a small kiss on the genius’s temple, amused at his whole team’s obliviousness to romance unless it was blatantly pointed out. 

 

4\. 

“I’m not saying that’s a dumb plan, I’m just saying that it would be stupid to go through with the plan.” Clint argued as he fired arrows at the oncoming attacks. Scott continued to work on the armed weapon, unfazed by the fiery debris that flew close to his face as he turned to shout at Clint. 

“I’m going in to disarm it! Cove me!” Scott shouted, shrinking to get inside of the bomb ticking down quickly. 

‘Have you disabled it yet?’ Clint’s com buzzed. He side stepped a fireball, and continued to shoot trick arrows at the mechanical enemies.

‘Almost got it!’ Scott replied from somewhere in the ticking bulk. Firing a final arrow at the last baddie, Clint turned back to the bomb. 

“You have thirty seconds. You sure you got this?” Clint said nervously through the com system, watching the numbers continue to tick. No reply. “Scott?”  
It hit ten seconds and went blank, the threat neutralized. Clint let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Scott regrew and squatted down to take the trigger of the explosive device. 

“Done.” Scott said to the team, a proud smirk on his face. Clint slapped Scott’s shoulder and let out a relieved chuckle. 

 

 

5\. (They kiss. And being the cliché person I am aliens made them do it.)

The alien looked at the four Avengers impatiently. All four nervously shuffled.  
“You must show us what we wish to know, Avengers.” Thor backed up quickly.  
“As you mortals say, ‘Not it’.” Steve stepped back too. 

“I’m a taken man and Tony isn’t here. Sorry, Antman, Hawkeye, you’re going to have to take one for the team.” A blush matching his hair crept up Scott’s neck and cheeks. Clint avoided eye contact. Moving awkwardly, they faced each other. “Like you seem to enjoy saying, ‘Just kiss him already’ Clint.” Thor let out a bellow of laughter at Steve’s reference to Clint’s own words to Steve and Tony. It seems payback was in order. 

Scott rocked on his heels, unsure how to proceed, fiddling with the helmet in his hands. Clint sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Helplessly looking back to Steve and then to the alien monarch, he removed his shades and took the helmet from Scott’s hands. Shoving the items in Steve’s arms, he swiveled back to Scott. Again they stood face to face, deep blushed on both of their faces. 

Setting his hands on Scott’s shoulders he looked for a sign to continue. Scott cupped Clint’s face with shaky hands, avoiding eye contact. Clint, taking this as a green light to continue, moved in. Awkwardly hovering his lips near Scott’s, his eyes firmly shut. For a millisecond, Clint could feel Scott’s slightly erratic breathing against his cheek. Scott immediately pulled back silently laughing, a nervous but seemingly more comfortable. Clint gave a helpless and shy smile in return. 

Pacing his hands more comfortably on Scott’s waist, Scott’s twined his arms around his neck, the watchers in the room forgotten as they moved in together. Clint’s lips, still curled into a grin, pecked Scott’s lightly as the other tried to control his still present giggles. Finally, Scott responded, capturing Clint’s mouth into a soft playful battle to see who could conquer the other’s mouth. An awkward cough broke them out of their moment. 

Hastily moving away from each other, Clint scrambled to Steve, retrieving the Antman helmet and his shades. With a blush, he handed an equally embarrassed Scott his helmet. The alien leader seemed to hum with approval, and proceeded to give them the information they needed.  
Clint and Scott pointedly ignored the cat calls as they beside each other on the trip back to earth, their hands intertwined loosely between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Look ma, I did it. I finished something for once. Writing short fanfics fill me with DETERMINATION. And are great practice. So. Yeah.


End file.
